


The Tree That Bleeds

by Yeetitude



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 20:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeetitude/pseuds/Yeetitude
Summary: A slave and his master live far up in the mountains, when the child (the slave) gets curious about the fire he and Eghir (the owner) take a trip to the wooded areas. Within which lies a horrible truth about the world the two characters inhabit.





	The Tree That Bleeds

The tree that bleeds

The boy lays close to the fire in the center of the tent, his forehead resting against his knees. The chill of the winter winds slithers its way through a gap in the yurt’s entrance. The small flame is only enough to stop freezing to death. He pulls his coat as close as it can be, collar pressing against his neck. Shivering uncontrollably, the child then reaches his hands out and lets the warmth pass over him. A smile spreads form his lips before he yelps and retracts his hands from the heat. From outside the sound of metal clinking together rings in a rhythm he has heard often, his owner is home. The boy’s mood is pulled to a panicked fear as he scrambles to put out the fire, pressing his cloak against the flame. But it does no good as the yurt’s door is flung open before he can finish.

The hulking grey body of the master is at least four heads taller than the child’s, with wide body. With a scream from the slave, Eghir yanks him up to his head by the coat, his frown emphasized by the tusks protruding just above his lips. “So, think you can just start a fire whenever you want? Don’t I keep telling you that wood’s gettin’ scarce!?” The boy looks away, tears pooling around his eyes. Eghir doesn’t notice, he puts the boy down before gripping a chain from the bench. “Since you can start a fire it wouldn’t be a bad idea to teach you how to get one. Now come on.” The brute gives the link a hard pull and the child follows into the harsh winter.

The snow crunches beneath the deer skin boots of the slave as they move onward, he glances to the side for a moment before jerking his head back in fear; the lake at the base of the mountain seems like a drop of rain. Crystals of pure white flood the boy’s vision, nearly making him blind but for the few scraps of Eghir’s legs. The owner puffs out a small white cloud from his mouth and drags him further. Eventually the pair reach a cliff, the giant turns around and signals for the boy to climb on his back. As soon as his property’s legs are around his shoulders he takes out two ice picks and begins the track upwards. As the child watches he notices that Eghir seems to almost not care about what’s going on, as if he doesn’t even know what his body is doing. Within a few minutes they reach the top and he is released from the master’s shoulders. 

At the top lay an odd sight, there were stumps of trees lying in the snow by the hundreds, only a few on the horizon could be seen as real trees. They march onward to the edge of the ruined forest, Eghir stoping the slave as he studies the array. But the child saw something strange, while nearly all the other ones were a deep brown, there was one off to the side that was the color of wheat. “Hm? So, you actually want to pick out one? Well, alright, but be quick, you still need to cook up dinner.” Eghir sticks his hand inside of his thick fur coat, producing a large ax, there are several chips from previous use. He plops it on the ground as the slave picks it up, it’s heavy, he almost drops the tool before setting off. He prepares his swing before pausing, something seems off, there’s no groove to the bark; there’s no bark at all, simply blank wheat color.

“It’s not gonna cut itself, hurry up!” Eghir barks. With slight panic, the boy prepares before hitting the tree with full force. A scream rises out of the plant, fierce and angry it doesn’t stop, getting loud enough that the boy slams his hands against his ears in retaliation. Obviously shaken he stands for a few seconds in dumb fear before starting up again, but before he can begin the thing starts bleeding. Trickles of blood ooze out of the tree as the roar continues. The child starts crying and drops to his knees. The master runs over, faint anger traced on his face. “Come on, get up, keep cutting.” The boy, scrambles to his feet, still crying, he shakingly lifts the ax. Eghir takes his hands and delivers a harsh blow to the bleeding thing. The screams are not stopped until the tree falls, leaving the stump to flow red liquid through the gathering snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone! Thank you for reading this story, it may just be a rough draft but it means a lot that you decided to do so. Being that this is a work in progress I’d Like to know what works and what doesn’t. Is there anything that stood out to you as awkward or unnecessary, what did I do well in writing this piece and how could I improve? Thanks so much for giving this a chance, your reading is definitely appreciated!


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